


Growing Up is Hard

by ThePinkTeenager



Category: Atypical (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Autism, Canon Autistic Character, F/M, Female Sam, First Dates, First Kiss, I actually don’t have a beta reader, Minecraft, Not Beta Read, People incorrectly assume protagonist is aromantic, Shopping, dating fail, i don’t know how to write romance, missing item
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:00:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29111199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePinkTeenager/pseuds/ThePinkTeenager
Summary: Sam is a high school student who has never gone on a date before. She wants to change that, but dating with autism is... tricky.Oh, yeah, Sam’s a girl who loves Minecraft. And she has autism.
Relationships: Casey Gardner & Sam Gardner, Sam Gardner/Original Characters
Collections: Autistic Girls/Women Gift Exchange, Fuck Yeah Autistic Characters





	1. Chapter 1

A skeleton shoots me in the butt just outside my house. I ignore him and get inside, but now I can’t sleep. “Darn it!” I exclaim. 

None of this is real, of course. I’m playing Minecraft, also known as my favorite video game ever. The real world is confusing. In Minecraft, monsters try to kill you, but at least they’re predictable.

I kill the skeleton, but now there’s a creeper coming toward me. I run in the opposite direction; I really don’t feel like getting blown up today. I run straight into my house and close the door. Safety at last.

I look at the clock. It’s almost eight, and I’ve been playing since just after dinner. As much as I’d like to keep playing, it’s time for me to quit. I hit save and quit, then turn my computer off. Then I undress, go to the bathroom, and take a shower.   
  
In the shower, I think about something that’s been on my mind for some time now. Most of the girls in my grade have a boyfriend and one has a girlfriend. I have neither, not because I’m asexual but because my social skills are bad. In the two years since I discovered my interest in boys, I haven’t asked a single one on a date. Nobody has asked me out, either. 

I tell Julia about this the next day. She suggests asking someone out. I look at her like she’s kidding, then proceed to tell her a list of reasons why that’s a bad idea. 

“People on the spectrum date, you know.” she says.   
_On the spectrum_. That’s a bad phrase. It could mean anything, but for some reason it means autistic. I’ve heard it so many times. 

At dinner, Mom asks how my therapy session was. Julia’s actually my therapist.   
“Good.” I said. “She thinks I should go out and find someone I want to have sex with.”  
Casey laughs. She may be my little sister, but at 16 she’s old enough to know what that means. 

“She didn’t actually say the sex part; I added that in.” 

Mom and Dad aren’t laughing. In fact, Dad says he thinks it’s a great idea. Mom starts telling him that I’m too young, but he points out that I’m old enough to drive a car. I don’t know how they’re related, except that they’re both adult activities. After that, I go to my room. 

I walk into the familiar room and see Rosalind, my pet guinea pig, and Slippy, my stuffed penguin. I then open the door to Rosalind’s cage, take her out, and pet her while sitting on the floor. She licks my hand. She can probably taste my dinner on it. I let her roam around my room for a while before directing her back into her cage for the night. 

The next day at work, I ask Rupi for advice. Well, I try, but it’s hard to do that when she’s telling people how much money they need to pay her. I could never be a cashier, so I’m bagging groceries instead. 

“Rupi,” I ask, “how do you get a boyfriend?” 

“A boyfriend?” she asks. “Looks like someone has a crush on somebody.”   
  
“No I don’t.” I say. “I just want a boyfriend. 

“Have you ever heard of online dating?” she asks. 

“Of course.” I say. 

Rupi then directs me to a particular dating website. I’ve never done this before, but Rupi’s done it a bunch of times; she must know what she’s talking about. I make a profile and start looking. Making a profile isn’t easy, but it’s easier than actually dating someone. 

In a few days, I get a message from a guy. I try to respond to it in the least awkward reply to it. I stumble my way through that conversation and we exchange phone numbers. Then I call him and he asks if I’d like to meet him at a local coffee shop. I say yes. 

I fail to realize how loud that shop is until I’m inside it. Thankfully, I have earplugs on me at all times, but that makes conversation impossible. Also, the guy finally realizes just how inept I am and leaves. I never hear from him again. 

After that fiasco, I decide that online dating just isn’t my thing. It appears real-world dating isn’t my thing either, as I fail to notice a guy’s interest in me until Rupi points it out. After the fifth time, she tells me to go up to the guy and ask him out. I don’t know how to do that, but she doesn’t give me very clear directions.

I end up going to the guy and asking him point-blank if he likes me. He says “Uh, I think you’re cute, but I don’t know you.” 

“We can talk.” I said. “After work. Outside the store.” 

“Sounds good.” he says. 

When my shift’s over, I text my parents to let them know where I am and wait for the guy. I’m mildly surprised when he actually shows up. Luckily, I wasn’t unprepared; I brought pizza. 

“Nice pizza.” he says.   
  
“Thanks.” I say. I take a sip of the water I brought. “You know in Minecraft, the water’s blue. Like there’s blue dye in it or something.” 

“Well, it’s not uncommon for video games to have enhanced graphics.” he says. 

I spend the next twenty minutes talking about my latest Minecraft adventures. This guy says he’s never played it before, so I explain everything in much more detail than I normally would. 

“Well,” he says, “Clearly you’re very passionate.” 

“I am.” I say. 

“Hey,” he says, “You wanna go to my house?” 

“Sure,” I say, “but I can’t stay too long. My parents’ll worry about me... or yell at me. Or both.”   
  
He chuckles. 

The guy lives in an apartment about half an hour from the store. It’s a nice place, really, though it has a strong scent of men, aftershave, and bacon. When I tell him this, he says “I live with two other guys and we eat a lot of bacon.” 

He leads me to his room. It’s small, but has a bed, a desk, a chair, and a shelf. The scent of bacon isn’t quite as strong in here. 

We sit on the bed. Things are going okay until he leans close to me. Too close. Especially his mouth. 

I panic and skitter backwards away from him, accidentally hitting him in the process. “What is wrong with you?” he yells. 

I don’t answer. This whole thing has gone horribly wrong. I rush out the door as fast as I can. Then I get in my car, drive home, and go to my room before anything else can go wrong. 

Casey opens the door and peeks inside. “I’m guessing the date didn’t go well?” she asks. 

I shake my head. “Not at all.” I say. 


	2. Chapter 2

Clearly, I was doing something wrong. Every single one of my attempts to date had failed one way or another. But I couldn’t figure out what it was. 

Then a girl in my English class told me that my outfit was dorky. I tried to ignore the comment, but I couldn’t. I kept looking down at my clothes.

After school, I went to my room in distress. No wonder I couldn’t date; I didn’t even wear nice clothing. Sure, my clothes were comfortable and practical, but they looked shitty. If I couldn’t handle something as simple as fashion, how could I possibly have a chance in the world of romance? 

I go to the person with the best fashion sense I know: Rupi. She agrees that my clothes are a bit dorky and says that she can take me shopping on Saturday. I like that idea, but I need money for it. 

The money I make at Foodopolis is in my bank account, and my mom has the card or whatever you need to open it. I ask her for some money and explain what it’s for. 

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” asks Mom. “The mall’s loud and has bright lights, and sometimes people wear perfume...” 

“Mom,” I say, “I’ll be fine. I’m not a kid anymore.” 

She gives me the money, but insists on going with me. Never mind that I can drive myself to the store and have been there many times. Never mind that my hypersensitivities aren’t nearly as limiting as they used to be. Never mind that Rupi will be right there if I have any questions or am unsure about something. 

In the end, we compromise. She can accompany me to the store, but once we meet Rupi, she has to leave. I don’t care if she goes back to the car, stands by the door, or does some shopping of her own. Just as long as she’s not five feet away from me. 

We meet Rupi near the front door. She says hi to us. When Mom starts talking about her concerns, I stop her. 

“Mom, I told Rupi everything she needs to know.” I say. “I have earplugs and money and I won’t need sunglasses. Now go.” 

Reluctantly, Mom leaves. 

Rupi takes me to the women’s clothing section. On the way there, I spot a Minecraft T-shirt and grab it. Rupi reminds me that we’re here to get fashionable clothes. 

“Okay,” I say, “I’ll get one Minecraft shirt.” 

She decides that’s acceptable and we look at women’s clothing. At first, I go for my usual style of clothes- loose, colorful shirts and pants- but Rupi steers me away from those. Instead, she gives me a choice between several leather jackets. I choose a black one with silver buttons. 

Once we have several items, we go to a fitting room. First, I try on the jacket. It’s kind of uncomfortable. 

“I don’t like it.” I tell Rupi. “It doesn’t feel like me.”

“It looks great on you.” she says.

The next items are: a delicately patterned black shirt with one sleeve, a white shirt with a black belt, a slim red dress, and tight-fitting jeans and leggings of various colors. I accept the white shirt, the dress, a pair of jeans, and a pair of purple leggings. The rest of the clothes are returned to the racks. Or at least, that was the plan. 

As we leave the fitting room, we notice a security guard with my mom. 

“What’s going on?” I ask. 

It turns out that my mom caused some trouble over the store’s perceived unwillingness to accommodate me. Which is ironic, since I’m usually the one to cause a problem in public. 

“She’s my mom.” I say. 

“So you’re the autistic kid she was rambling’ about?” asks the guard. She’s a large black woman with an accent. “You don’t look autistic.” 

Rupi helps me. “Yeah well, you don’t look like a judgmental bitch.” she says. I stare at her with wide eyes. Did she really just say that? 

The guard angrily calls for backup. The next few minutes are really confusing, but it looks like they arrest my mom and Rupi and two guards lead them away. 

“You can go.” said a third guard. 

I go to the checkout and pay for the clothes. Luckily, I still have the car keys, though I have a personal rule against driving while angry. I find a quiet place in the mall and call Casey. 

She answers the phone, thank goodness. “Hey Sam,” she says, “what’s up?” 

“I went to the mall with Mom and Rupi.” I start. “I guess Mom argued with somebody while Rupi and I were in the fitting room. We came out and saw her being held by a guard. I told the guard who I was, and she said “you don’t look autistic.” Then Rupi said she didn’t look like a judgmental bitch, and she got really mad and called another guard. They arrested Mom and Rupi or something.” 

“So why’d you call me?” asks Casey. 

“Because I’m mad at Mom for babying me.” I say. I then tell her what Mom did before and during the shopping trip. 

“Well that sucks.” says Casey. “Mom didn’t have the keys on her, did she?” 

“Nope.” I say. “I’m just too angry to drive right now.” 

“Send me pics of your new clothes.” says Casey. “I wanna see what you and Rupi got.” 

“Okay, I will.” I say. “Bye.” 

“Bye.” 

I hang up. Casey’s younger than I am, but neither of our parents baby her anymore. Honestly, Dad stopped babying me several years ago; it’s just Mom. I know it could be worse, but that doesn’t make it any less irritating. 

After twenty minutes of watching Minecraft videos, I’m calmer. Casey will have to wait until I get home to see the clothes. I grab my stuff and go to the car. 

When I get home, I’ll tell Dad what happened. He can deal with Mom and the guards. I, however, will be showing Casey my new clothes. Despite the drama, this trip was a success. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine’s Day!

I wear my new Minecraft shirt and purple leggings to school today. I just felt like wearing that.

Paige notice. “I like the shirt.” she says as I walked down the hall.   
  
“Thanks.” I say. Paige is the only kid at my school that I consider a friend. “I got it at Target with Rupi.” 

“You went shopping with your coworker?” says Paige. 

I nod. “She’s really good at fashion and stuff.” 

Later, I look down at my math quiz. I just finished, but class isn’t over yet. Once again, I am reminded of the fact that I seldom actually need the extra time provided by my IEP. It is a leftover from my younger days.

I raise my hand and give the quiz to my teacher. She mumbles something about me being fast, but takes the quiz to her desk. With nothing else to do, I let myself sit and think. 

My mind quickly goes to the boy behind me and two seats to the right. His name’s Milo, and he’s kind of tall with dark, curly hair. We worked on a project together a few weeks ago. That was the first time I thought about dating him. It was a fleeting thought, but it comes back now. 

The thought doesn’t go away this time. It persists in some way until lunch. Paige and I are sitting with her friends, eating. The friends are chatting amongst themselves. They stopped talking to Paige a few minutes ago. 

I turn to her. “Paige, you know Milo Stransky?” 

“He’s in my English class.” she answers. “Why?” 

“I wanna date him.” I say bluntly. 

“Really?” says Paige. “I thought you were aromantic.” 

“Nope.” I say. “Though a lot of people seem to think that.” 

“That you’re aro?” she clarifies.   
  
I nod. “Something like that. It can be kind of annoying.” 

She is, however, the first person to use the word “aromantic” to describe me. Most people just say I don’t give a crap about dating or boys, which is not true. There’s nothing _wrong_ with being aro, it’s just that I’m _not_. 

“Are you going to ask him out?” asks Paige. ”I think he’s single.” 

“Maybe.” I say. “I don’t... I don’t know how.” 

“You don’t know how?” asks Paige. I nod in embarrassment. 

Paige starts explaining that process while I take notes. Frankly, it sounds kind of complicated. I wonder why on earth I think this was a good idea.

That afternoon, I make a pros and cons list for dating Milo. There are several pros, ranging from his friendly demeanor to his nice neutral smell. Okay, he smells like a guy, but I kind of like it. By far, the biggest con is that I don’t know how to do this. But I have Paige’s recommendations, so I decide to at least try. 

I sit near Milo at lunch the next day. He’s eating with a few other boys and talking about sports and stuff. They notice me, wave, and return to their conversation. I wait. 

Eventually, I speak up. “Hi Milo.” I say. 

“Hi Sam.” he says. 

“You know her?” asks one of the boys. 

Milo nods. “She’s in my math class. Everyone, this is Sam. Sam, this is Rob, Conner, Luke, and Joey.” He points to each boy as he says their names. 

I wave. “Nice to meet you.” I say. 

The boys echo similar statements. 

“You have nice hair.” I tell Milo.   
  


Milo touches his hair. “Thanks.” he says. 

“It’s the same color as oak logs in Minecraft.” I comment. “Luke’s is more like spruce logs, and Rob’s is sort of the color of stripped acacia logs. Usually, I build with oak logs, but sometimes I use spruce or birch logs. Acacia logs are fine, but they’re really orange and the doors look terrible. If I’m going for formality, I use a dark oak door. It’s even got a gold knob- well, not really a knob, but it looks like a knob.” 

I keep talking, aware that lunch will eventually end. The boys have stopped talking, but I hear occasional noises from them. I think one of them is staring at me, but I’m not sure. 

I go from wood to building techniques to other building materials and somehow end up telling stories about funny mining fails(most of which involve either lava or creepers). Then I realize people are getting up and leaving. 

“Oh shoot,” I say, “I gotta get to class. See you later.”   
  
“See ya.” says Milo as he waves. 

I gather up my stuff and leave for my next class. The rest of the day is uneventful. It isn’t until I’m packing up for the bus that I realize something’s missing. 

“My notebook!” I shout. 

I have two notebooks. My math notebook is safely in my backpack, but my other notebook is missing. The one that I wrote my pros and cons list in. 

Where was the last place I saw it? Well, I wrote in it this morning in English class. Then I had history class, then I went to lunch. I read the pros and cons list before putting the notebook down and talking to the boys. I didn’t use it in French class, but maybe it was tucked in my backpack? Wait, no, I don’t remember even _seeing_ it in French class... 

“Uh-oh.” I say. I must’ve left the notebook in the cafeteria. I panic. I left a notebook containing a whole bunch of personal stuff about two feet away from Milo’s backpack. 

This cannot possibly be good. 


	4. Chapter 4

I try to think about anything but the notebook. To this end, I play multiple hours of Minecraft. I find a really fun minigame where I follow various clues to a treasure. Too bad one of the clues is a written book. I finish the game, but it’s too late; I have been reminded of the missing notebook. 

In the next few days, I try everything. I play more Minecraft. I watch videos of people playing Minecraft. I watch videos of people doing normal stuff. I Google whatever comes to my mind. I play I Spy with myself. I listen to Casey rant about an annoying boy in her biology class. I even do precalc problems I printed off the Internet, thinking that the effort of solving them would block out all else. Ultimately, no matter what I do, I end up thinking about the notebook. 

I check the Lost and Found daily, but the notebook doesn’t show up. Paige and Casey say they’ll look for it, but neither of them find it. None of my teachers have any idea where it is. It’s like the notebook vanished entirely, but of course that’s impossible. 

In the meantime, I continue attempting to talk to Milo. Over the course of a week, I learn a few things about him. For starters, he has a brother and a dog. And yes, his mom has gotten their names mixed up on multiple occasions. He likes math, which explains why he’s in an honors class. He actually likes the school’s cheeseburgers. 

I tell him about myself, too. I tell him about my family, my current and past classes, and my Minecraft adventures. I think he’s interested, though it’s really just guesswork on my part. 

I do not tell him about my autism. I don’t tell anyone about my autism except for doctors and therapists. If people knew that, maybe they’d think I was ashamed of it, but I’m not. 

I was diagnosed in fifth grade. My parents spent years going to various doctors and psychologists, asking them what was going on. Their suggestions ranged from social anxiety to learning disabilities to borderline personality(seriously, who the heck evaluates an eight-year-old for that?). One psychologist literally told my parents that I was “just a weird kid”. We didn’t go back to that one. 

Eventually, we went to a neuropsychologist who spent two hours evaluating me. When my parents asked what she thought I had, she looked at her notes, then looked straight at them and said, “your daughter has autism.” That led to a long discussion that I didn’t really pay attention to because I was ten and wanted to go home. 

It took a while to accept the diagnosis. I’d already had several diagnoses at this point, some of which were questionable at best. Why should this be any different? Besides, the autistic kids on TV and in books didn’t look like me. During that time, I compared myself to various fictional characters and concluding that I couldn’t be autistic because I didn’t avoid all interaction, or flap my hands frequently, or lack empathy. Then I realized that those fictional autistic people were just that- fictional. I, on the other hand, was real. And so was my autism. 

After coming to that realization, I had to decide whether or not to tell other people. At first, I was cautious, but told people when asked or when somebody mentioned the subject.

Then one day my class had a sub. I forget why my regular teacher was out, but I remember everything else. The sub seemed okay at first- just as clueless as most subs, but not mean. Then I got overwhelmed by something else and asked for a break. The sub, who didn’t know about my IEP, said no because class had started only twenty minutes ago. I calmly told her that I was allowed to take a break anyway because I got overwhelmed easily due to my autism. In retrospect, I must’ve seemed incredibly articulate for an eleven-year-old, which unfortunately did not make my statement more convincing.

The sub said, “Nice try, kid. Girls can’t have autism. Go back to your seat.” 

It was pretty obvious that I wasn’t getting a break. Luckily, a classmate helped me calm down before things got worse. But the sub’s words still had consequences. Ever since then, I have stayed silent about my autism. 

Luckily, Milo doesn’t ask about that. He asks about my favorite movies, my sister, and college, but never mentions autism. I don’t mention it either. 

After a few days, he sits a little closer to me and occasionally gives me sweet compliments. I notice it, but decide it’s not important. 

One day, I walk over to the lunch table where he’s sitting. He’s sitting with only Connor and Rob today, eating a greasy-looking slice of pizza. “Have you seen my notebook?” I ask. 

Milo holds up a notebook with my full name written on it. “Yup.” he says. 


	5. Chapter 5

Connor and Rob look at the notebook. “What’s in it?” asks Rob. 

“I bet she’s written a bunch of fancypants equations.” says Connor. 

“No, that’s my math notebook.” I say. “The red one.” 

“She even color-codes her notebooks!” says Connor. 

“Isn’t that a normal thing?” I ask. 

They don’t answer. They’re trying to read my notebook. 

I snatch it out of Milo’s hands. “Hey!” I exclaim. 

“Why’d you do that?” asks Milo. 

“Because it’s my damn notebook!” I shout. 

I gather my stuff and leave. I don’t care where I sit, so long as it’s not here. 

I plan on talking about it after school, but I’m not the only one with news. On the drive home, Casey tells me that she’s going to Clayton Prep for an interview. Which happens to be the most elite high school in the county. 

“Clayton Prep?” I say. “No offense, but you’re not _that_ smart.” 

“They don’t want be because I’m smart.” she replies. “They want me because I’m a good runner.” 

She is a good runner, though I didn’t know Clayton cared about stuff like that. 

“The interview’s on Saturday.” she says. “Mom and Dad are bringing me.” 

“Congratulations!” Just getting an interview with that place is a huge deal. 

“What about you?” she asks. “You seem a little distracted.” 

I sigh. Why is my sister so good at reading people? “Milo found my notebook.” I say. 

“The boy you have a crush on?” she asks. 

“Yup.” 

“Did he read it?” 

“I don’t know.” I answer. “He, Connor, and Rob tried to read it at lunch, but I snatched it.” 

“I’m gonna have some words with them.” grumbles Casey. 

I turn on the radio. The song it’s playing is one of my favorites. Neither of us talk for the rest of the ride. 

* * *

On Saturday, Mom and Dad take Casey to Clayton. I stay home and play Minecraft. I finally start the towers on my massive castle. Before I can finish the first tower, though, I get hungry. It’s half past twelve and they’re not home yet. The interview must be taking a long time. I’ll have to get lunch myself. 

I could eat leftovers, but I don’t want to. Instead, I hop in Mom’s car and drive to a nearby Wendy’s. It’s loud, so I put in a pair of earplugs. Luckily it’s not super crowded like it is on Saturday evenings. 

I order a burger and fries and sit at an unoccupied table. The burger’s really good for something so cheap. Then somebody says hi to me. I look up and see an employee. He looks vaguely familiar. 

“Jake?” I ask. 

“Yeah.” he says. “Long time no see.” 

Jake was one of the mentors in the freshman mentoring program. After the program finished, I saw him regularly on campus until he graduated. He was one of the nicer mentors. 

“I thought you were going to college.” I ask. 

“I thought I was too.” he said. “But after the first year, I ran out of money. Now I’m taking courses at the community college and working part-time. What about you?” 

“I’m a senior now.” I answer. “I applied to some colleges, but I don’t know if I got accepted yet. I got my license in June.” 

“Cool.” he says. “My ex’s dad worked for the DMV. She said he had some pretty crazy stories.” 

“You have an ex?” I ask. I don’t remember Jake having a girlfriend in high school. 

Jake nods. “We were together for about a year.” he says. 

“I haven’t done that yet.” I say. “I went on a couple dates, but they didn’t end well. Heck, I’ve never even been kissed.” 

“Do you want to?” he asks. 

I shrug. “Yeah.” 

Jake is silent for a moment. Then he reaches toward me. “Is it okay if I touch you?” he asks. 

“Go ahead.” I say. I don’t actually mind being touched. You just have to ask first. 

Jake puts his hand on my shoulder. I stand still for a few seconds before resting my hand on his other shoulder. 

“Closer?” he asks. 

“Sure.” 

Before I know it, we’re kissing each other. His skin is smooth and just the slightest bit salty. Contrary to what my younger self believed, I don’t find it gross. In fact, I kind of like it. 

Jake stops and turns his head. I do the same and see an older man in a uniform frowning at us. 

“I swear she’s eighteen!” says Jake. 

“Eighteen?” I ask. “What does that have to do with anything?” 

The man ignores me and speaks to Jake. “Sir, this is a Wendy’s.” he says. “And you’re an employee on your lunch break.” 

Jake taps my shoulder. “You should go now.” he says. 

I grab my half-finished meal. “Bye Jake.” I say. Not wanting to get involved with whatever’ about to happen, I go outside. 

I finish my lunch in the parking lot and think about what just happened. I wouldn’t call the kiss amazing, but it wasn’t at all bad. 

When I’m done, I throw away my trash and drive home. Somehow, I have a feeling that my first kiss will not be my last. 


	6. Chapter 6

“Hey Sam,” asks Paige, “what’s on your mind?” 

“How do you ask a guy out?” I blurt out. “And by ‘you’, I mean me.” 

“You want to ask a guy out?” she asks. 

I nod. 

“Lemme guess: is it Milo?” 

“Yes it’s Milo.” I say. “Seriously, how do I do it?” 

“Well,” says Paige, “it’s all about timing. First, you have to...” 

Paige explains the process, going into detail about various points. She doesn’t even make a fuss when I start taking notes. 

After lunch, I make a plan. Then I go over the plan in my head about thirty times. I really, really don’t want to screw this up. 

* * *

Milo is standing alone in the hallway. Perfect. I walk over to him. 

“Hey Milo,” I say. 

He looks at me. “Yeah?” he says. 

“Do you want to come over to my house and play Minecraft?” I ask. I said this line under my breath barely two minutes ago. 

“Uh... when?” he asks. 

“Tomorrow after school.” I picked that day because as far as I know, neither of us have any after-school activities tomorrow. 

“Sure.” he says. “But uh, where’s your house?” 

“Oh right.” I say, feeling awkward that I missed such an important detail. I tell him my address. 

“Okay.” he says. “See you tomorrow.” 

“See you tomorrow.” I echo. 

I try to calm down on my way to class. I just invited Milo Stransky to my house and he said yes! Paige is definitely going to hear about this. 

When I get home from school, Dad’s home. 

“Did they let you go early today?” I ask. 

“Yeah.” he says. “Scheduling put too many people on today’s afternoon shift.” 

“Milo’s coming over tomorrow.” I say. “He’s in my math class.” 

“Are you bringing boys into the house now?” asks Dad. 

“Casey’s allowed to bring Evan here!” I protest. 

“Chill, Sam.” Dad’s smiling. “It’s okay with me if you bring boys over. Just make sure you too clean up after yourselves.” 

“Will do.” I say.

* * *

Milo wanted me to drive him to my house. I was nervous about letting him in my car, but said yes. 

I regretted that decision as soon as he started talking. The fact that he was in my car while I was driving made me nervous, and his attempts at conversation didn’t help that. I end up resorting to my topic of choice: Minecraft. Casey scolds me for talking about it for so long. I tell her to shut up. 

Mom and Dad aren't home. Dad's working and Mom's most likely running errands. That's fine with me. 

Casey takes off her coat and backpack. "I'm heading upstairs." she says. "You two lovebirds do whatever you want, just stay out of my room." 

"Will do." I say as she leaves. Milo and I stand in silence. 

"Do you want a snack?" I ask. "I have uh, leftover granola bars." I rummage through my backpack and showcase the granola bar. 

"Sure." Milo takes the granola bar and starts eating it. While he eats, I unpack my backpack. 

"So, uh, where's the game?" asks Milo when he's finished. 

"Downstairs." I say. "Come on." 

I lead him to the room where my Xbox is set up. These days, I mostly play on my computer because the Xbox Edition doesn't have infinite worlds, but today is an exception. I give Milo the other controller and set it up in split-screen mode. 

"How do you play?" he asks. 

I'm confused. "I thought you said you have an Xbox." I say. 

"Yeah, but I don't play Minecraft on it." 

Whoops; I forgot that detail. I'll just have to show him how to play. 

First, I create a new world and name it "Milo Zone". Then I get both of us into the world and tell him how to move around. The world is in Creative Mode so he doesn't immediately die- a fact I mention multiple times. He spends about five minutes running around the world while I inspect the area. We're near a forest. 

“Hey Milo,” I ask, “Wanna chop down some trees?”

“Sure.” he says. 

I show him how to chop a tree. When that’s done, I show him how to build. He makes a structure out of quartz and endstone while I make a small house and farm. We stop when Casey tells us it’s time for dinner. 

Dinner goes pretty well. Unlike me, Milo is a natural conversationalist and talks to my parents and sister. Plus, we’re having lasagna for dinner, and I really like lasagna. 

After dinner, Dad offers to drive Milo home. He lets me sit in the backseat with him. I look at Milo sitting in front of the dark window. He looks at me. 

“My little girl finally has a boyfriend.” Dad comments. 

“Boyfriend?” I ask. “We’ve gone on one date. Does that make us boyfriend and girlfriend?” 

“If you want.” says Milo. 

I do want that, but I’m also nervous. I’ve never had a boyfriend before, and Milo and I don’t know each other that well. But I guess that’s the point of dating; to get to know your date. 

“Sure.” I say, smiling. 

And just like that, I have a boyfriend. 


End file.
